Page 81 of The Failed Audition

The material is more elastic than what I used in my garage, a higher difficulty, but I’m determined to perform these few tricks and poses. I climb up the silk with my hands, my muscles burning from the earlier routine. I wrap one foot, recalling the technique.

“Where’d you learn this?” he asks, watching me closely.

“Am I doing it wrong?” I wonder, my eyes popping out. I look at my foot, secured in the fabric, to the point where I can stand up with ease. My heel and toes aren’t covered with the red material.

“No, it’s right. I’m just curious.”

“Don’t laugh when I tell you.” I remember when Shay went through my DVDs in my dorm room and snickered likeyou can’t be serious?Then he actually said, “At least it’s not pole dancing.”I didn’t have the heart to admit to studying YouTube clips of pole dancers and being envious of their tricks.

Nikolai’s brows pinch in more confusion. “I wouldn’t, Thora.”

“I learned from videos. There were more when I got older though, when YouTube existed.” While he digests this, I grip the top of the silk and extend my body, my spine curving inward and creating a shape like I’m flying. Instead of just dangling my other leg, I bend my knee and point my toe.

“You’re self-taught,” he says. “That’s not something anyone should laugh at you for.”

My cheeks heat. And I climb higher on the silk. Then I break it apart and wrap my foot in each. I let go, dropping upside-down. The blood runs to my head, and I easily do the splits by stretching out my legs. Climbs. Wraps. Drops. It’s the bread and butter of this apparatus. That, I do know.

Nikolai is silent for the rest, and after a few more minutes, I finish and drop down. I can’t read his expression well enough to figure out if I’m better than average. So I just ask. “How’d I do?”

“I thought you’d be worse.”

I nod with my hands on my hips, breathing a bit heavier. “That’s good. I’ll take that.”

He rubs his lips and breaks my gaze.

“What?” I frown.

His hand goes to his eyes—he’s rubbing his eyesin distress.

No.What did you do, Thora?

He says, “I want to kiss you—even more than that. It’s distracting me.” He pinches his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

My belly flips and somersaults and refuses to stay stationary. “Really…?” I pause, wondering if that sounded rude. “I mean, you really want to kiss me? I wasn’t responding to your second…”statement.

He grimaces as he shuts his eyes tightly, as though I’m making it worse.

I’m gaping, very breathy. I manage to close my mouth, but I imagine my lips on his. His body against mine. Tangled together. I try to wipe away the visuals, but they keep coming.

After Nikolai exhales a deep breath, he tries to mask his feelings. He’s more severe again. “You need to work on your presentation.”Back to business.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re performing for an audience, not for yourself. You’re not trying to master the hardest trick, you’re trying to create the illusion that you’re dancing in the air.” He clasps my hand. “Be graceful. Be lithe and elegant with every move you make. Everything about aerial silk should look seamless.”

He combines the silk with one hand and takes a short running start. His feet lift off the ground. He flies like he lives up high. Like he’s never been grounded before. My ribcage juts in and out, watching as he effortlessly circles around me, as he supports his body with one fist wrapped around the silk. He extends his arm out to me.

Grab his hand.

The next time he nears, I do. I clasp his palm, my soles leaving the safety of the blue mat. My heart has never beat this hard. Or this fast.

“Climb up,” he commands.

I scale his rock hard body, as though he’s the pole I’ve been practicing on, and when I reach his chest, I grasp his shoulders.

“Breathe,” he whispers.

I let one out, his eyes boring through me. We start to slow, the momentum depleting. He wraps the second silk around my hand. We’re going to detach. I strangely,strangelywould love to stay right here. Pressed against him.

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